Well, I have to admit, Horns of War was a little pissed off. Here they are, rolling up into the remote mountains, delving into the earth to bring some aid and succor to a community in need, and what do they get? A xenophobic, paranoid, power-hungry, fear mongering, barrel of fuckery. Pardon my Elven. So the second in command of the local government is secretly supporting the Blood Klown Klan? Not hard to imagine how this played out. You secretly raise a little rabble, something to scare the common folk, put that fear back in them so they hide under the skirts of local government. Use this propaganda to discredit your rivals, while playing up your strengths. Until, like that baby basilisk you bought at the fair, it grows into a bigger beast than you can handle.

So now the Blood Klowns are operating independently of Anklyar, using the resources he gave them in a campaign to take over all of Thunderspire labyrinth. Good show boys, good show. Sadly for you, there has been a hefty price laid on your heads, and a certain Horns of War reputation dragged through the muck. Killing your leader will not only bag some coin, but more importantly clear our names.

And that, gentle readers is what we did.

Hell have no fury like The Horns of War venting some stress after being betrayed, falsely accused, tried, and nearly imprisoned.

We left a trail of carnage, brains, gore, shattered skulls, frozen flesh, ash, melty bits, and urine stains throughout the Blood Klown Klan’s secret stronghold. Hobgoblin guts mingled freely, with shattered rogue minotaur horns, exploded duergar, and the odd burninated human. If anything, it was racial harmony on a unparralleled scale. When we finally cornered their leader, there was no parley, there was no “talk it out.” We killed his guards, captured him, forced a confession, implemented Anklyar, cleared our names, and clocked out for the day.

The city of Thunderspire then proceeded to fail, in both their level of sorrow at mistaking us for villains, and in the rewarding of bountiful loots and prizes. In fact, they had the nerve to mention needing even more help against a cabal of demon worshipping gnolls, and a tribe of evil minotaurs claiming rights to the city and all lands in the labyrinth. Well, gentle reader, what can I say? Hearing of this further blight upon the fair denizens of Thunderspire, I was moved to action. I turned my beautiful face towards the city leader, highest wizardess of the tower council, locking eyes with her I heroically said,

As the Horns of War sat in the tavern of Winterhaven enjoying the class and accommodations befitting heroes of the realm, an urgent request was issued by one Lord Patrick, steward of Winterhaven. It seems that the clandestine underground trade city known as Thunderspire has been cut off from both trade and communications for the last two months! None is quite sure what has happened, but rumors abound of an army of demonic goblinoids, wearing the faces of their victims and dressed as carnival clowns have risen up from the ancient minotaur labyrinth city located below Thunderspire and began a campaign of terror against the citizens and surrounding countryside.

The Horns of War, moved in a very emotional way by the large bounty being placed on the Blood Clown Klan’s leader, rush to the scene. It is also important to note that the possibility of discovering more about his origins and people was motivation enough for Bison. Mounted on their trusty cave lizard mounts the party discovers the secret mountain entrance to the city. The reception they received from the local militia was…. less than warm. Cham tried to be as gregarious as possible, showering the locals with warm words and large fistfuls of gold. Sadly, the party’s unusual appearance, and loud nature, put the already paranoid townsfolk high on their guard. A few hours spent around town revealed much: the attacks have ben going on for over 8 weeks, 30% of the town’s population has either been killed, kidnapped, or fled, the local militia can barely defend the towns borders, the number of Blood Clowns is currently unknown, but believed to be upwards of 400.

The town is ruled by an unaligned circle of mages, with the two primary leaders both suspecting each other of foul play. While investigating the second in command, Anklyar, a minotaur wizard with tribal markings identical to Bison’s, he betrayed and left us for dead in a dungeon under his mansion. With the aid of Skye’s familiar, Rimeclaw, we escaped the death trap and returned to town, only to find the militia waiting for us. Anklyar had spun a story about us being spies for the Blood Clowns and we were put on immediate trial. Seeing that the situation had gone south, Cham began using her bardic fast talk to provide the verbal cover the party would need to move towards the nearest exit of the mage tower…